“What? How do you know?”
“Dr. Sam. Your James told him that just before he left. But he threatened Dr. Sam if he should ever hurt you.”
“James thinks I want…Sam? He gave me to Sam?” Fury raced past her worry. “Who does he think he is?”
“A man who is hurting. Who has lost his true love and believes that he cannot be forgiven.” Luisa patted her cheek. “But who seeks to protect her still.”
Her temper spiked even as her heart twisted.
The man was an idiot.
And too blasted noble for his own good.
“Maybe I’ll borrow your skillet until I get home to mine,” she said grimly.
Luisa chuckled. “I will help you pack.”
Chapter Twenty
When the plane taxied to the lone hangar, Cameron’s grin was huge. He leaped from the pilot’s seat and charged to her. “Mom! Is it true? Do you remember?”
She smiled. Cupped his cheek. “Not everything, not the accident, but you?” Her vision blurred. “How could I forget my baby boy?” She laughed when he winced. Opened her arms to him.
“You don’t recall that we agreed no more of the baby boy stuff?” But he was hugging her so hard she could barely breathe.
“I do,” she said finally. “But you are my baby.”
“Yeah, so deal, baby bro,” sounded another voice from behind him.
“Oh!” Bella broke the hug. “I didn’t see you, Muffin. How wonderful! Come here.”
No hesitation from her daughter this time. Cele rushed into her embrace and held on tight. “Mama,” was all she said. Her shoulders shook.
Bella snugged her daughter closer, then widened the circle to include Cam. So sweet, so unbearably precious to feel their love surround her.
Another bit of home.
At last, Cam spoke, his voice a little rough as he swiped at his eyes. “There’s another storm system headed this way. We really should get going.”
“Where is your father? Is he all right?”
Cam shifted. Shrugged.
Bella faced Cele. “Is he home?”
“As of this morning.” The two exchanged glances.
“What aren’t you saying?”
Finally, Cele answered. “He told us what happened. What he did. That you’d left him when you went on your trip. And when you remembered, you threw him out.”
“I yelled at him,” Cam admitted. “What an asshole.”
“Don’t speak of your father that way,” Bella said sharply.
“But he—”
“What happened is between your father and me. It doesn’t change our love for you one whit.”
“Are you getting a divorce?” Ever the realist, Cele was the one to ask.
But she seemed a small girl again as she did.
How hard this must be for them, after all they’d been through, to have their hopes dashed. She’d remembered, as they’d longed for her to do…and because of it, they might lose their family yet.
“I can’t say.” At their crestfallen expressions, she continued. “I hope not.” She’d progressed that far, at least.
“But things will have to change.” That much she knew.
“They already are,” Cam piped up.
Cele dug her elbow into his ribs. “Hush.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not a thing,” Cele said with a murderous glare at her sibling.
“Yeah. Uh, we should get going,” he said.
“What are you hiding? Is he all right?”
“I don’t think so.” At Bella’s gasp, Cele hastened to reassure her. “He’s not physically hurt or anything, at least no more than he was when you last saw him.”
At which point, he was more than a bit banged up. Sam was still limping around and sporting a huge shiner plus assorted scrapes and bruises.
“Explain what you mean, then.”
Both shook their heads. “It’s not our place, Mama,” Cele said. “This is between you and Daddy.”
True. Even if she could dig more out of them, in the final analysis, she and James had to work through their problems themselves.
“All right,” she said, and squeezed them both. “Give me a minute to say goodbye to Luisa and Sam. Then let’s go home.”
Her children beamed with such hope that she played her part.
But she would only know for certain what she would do when she encountered James.
The sense of homecoming was sharp and bittersweet. The sight of the house brought tears to her eyes. She’d lived in it with James for more than thirty years now. Before him, she’d never been in one spot for more than a matter of months.
They’d brought their babies home to this house. Fought and made up, dreamed and schemed and played beneath the wide, welcoming eaves.
Every bush and flower, each tree had felt the touch of her hands. She loved every brick and stick of this place.
But she didn’t know if it would ever again be the refuge she remembered.
“He’s so sad, Mama,” Cele murmured.
Bella pressed her forehead against the window glass. “So am I, Muffin.”
“Can you fix it?” Cam asked, sounding more like nine than nineteen.
“That isn’t all up to me.” She stepped out. Clasped the door handle. “But whatever happens between your father and me doesn’t change how much we love you. I can’t make promises, except that I will try.” She smiled at their wistful faces, so young and worried, though her stomach was a bundle of nerves. “I love you both.”
“Love you, too, Mama.”
“You’ll be okay?” Cam asked, as if he should protect her now.
“Of course.” She blew them a kiss. “I’ll call you.” When they hesitated, she shooed with her fingers. “Go on.”
She watched them leave, waving until they were out of view.
Then she set out to discover what would become of her life.
He hadn’t slept since he’d departed Lucky Draw. To work with power tools in such a state was beyond foolish.
But, he acknowledged wryly, he’d already been far more stupid.
He’d done a lot of thinking. Made some calls, set plans into motion. Then he’d needed to channel the nervous energy, so he’d put his hands to work while his mind churned.
He hadn’t learned the craft of woodworking from his dad, who’d been content to run the plant and support his family. His grandfather had been the one to teach him, to see promise in him. They’d passed many hours together with these very tools, which James inherited when Granddad had died.
He’d tried out newer tools, but only the old ones felt truly right. At the moment, shaping the wood soothed him as nothing else ever had.
Except spending time with Bella.
He had to stop thinking about her. He forced his mind back to the piece he was finishing. How had he lost sight of what this did for him? For years and years, all his energies had been drained by running the plant, by plotting cash flow and liquidity ratios, inventorying stock or perusing orders.
Once he’d designed most of what they built. Made the prototypes himself. It had been nearly a decade since he’d even sketched out a piece, much less made one.
This felt good. Damn good.
“It’s beautiful.”
He dropped the sanding block, grateful he hadn’t been operating a saw. He’d be minus a finger or two now.
Slowly, he turned.
And there she stood.
“It’s you who’s beautiful,” he said, his voice gone husky.
An uncertain smile flashed at him, then vanished. He couldn’t decide if he should be heartened by her nerves.
Before he could, she moved past him. Stroked the wood as he wondered if she’d ever stroke him again.
“You remembered.” Her own voice was low and a little shaky.
“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get to it.” He shoved away from the workbench. “I’m so very sorry for everything.”
“Don’t. You’
ve already said that.”
He heard her tears. “What can I do, Bella? I’ll say it a hundred times a day for the rest of my life if that’s what you want. Do you need me to crawl? How can I make you understand that I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, that I’d sell my soul to change it, but I can’t. I can’t, damn it, and that makes me sick. I make me sick because I hurt you, the most important person in my world, and we’re going to lose everything, and it’s my own blasted fault—” He snagged the sanding block, hurled it at the wall.
Dropped his head as his chest heaved. Felt his hope drain away at her silence.
He straightened, itchy to move. To escape the agony.
But she was already at his back, curving herself against him. “It isn’t all your fault,” she said softly, and put her arms around his waist.
He shuddered with renewed hope. With relief that she was touching him. But he couldn’t let himself off the hook that easily. “It is.” He clasped her hands to keep her close but revolved in her arms. “It is.”
“No. We lost each other, James. I’m not sure how. I was so afraid when we first met—”
“You?” He goggled. “You were fearless.”
“When you’ve been tossed around from house to house, always the fifth wheel, the burden, you learn not to admit that you’re scared or people will take advantage of it.
“But I was terrified all the time that you’d be like the others and change your mind. That the prince would get tired of the beggar girl. So I set out to make a home so strong, so invulnerable that nothing could ever threaten us. Where you’d be so happy that you wouldn’t leave me the way everyone else had.” Sorrow crept over her beloved features. “But it never dawned on me that we could be the threats ourselves. Me, so sad after the kids left home, and you, beleaguered by the business.” She lifted her gaze to his. “We went astray, James. We forgot what made us strong. And after all that happened, once I remembered again about—” she cleared her throat “—her, well, it was like the first days again. I was all by myself, unsure what would become of me. If anyone would ever give me a home.”
“I am so—”
She hushed him with fingers across his lips. “No more sorrys, remember? If we’re to have a chance—”
He gripped her. “Are we? Do you want to try again?”
“Luisa posed a question when I was so angry and hurt.” She looked at him. “So afraid.” After a moment, she continued. “She challenged me to tally the pluses and minuses, even this big minus, and calculate how they would all balance out.”
He was almost afraid to ask, but did anyway. “So how did I score?”
A quick grin. “It took me a while. I was more interested in throwing dishes at the time.”
“Did you?”
She nodded. “Luisa had a set she hadn’t used up on her Romeo. I finished it off.”
“And?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how to forget what happened. The very thought of that woman with you makes me sick to my stomach.” She placed one hand on his belly. “This body is mine.” Her voice was a growl. “Mine, do you hear me? The idea of another woman’s hands touching you, being touched—”
She shoved away. “If I think of it, I can’t bear it. I’d like to kill her.” She glared. “Sometimes I’d like to kill you.”
His shoulders sank and he turned to go, but she grabbed his elbow. “I can’t forget yet, James. Maybe I never will.” Her voice wavered. “But I want to forgive you. I need to.”
For a minute, what she’d said didn’t register. He’d thought she was telling him they were through for certain, but then—
He wheeled. “Forgive me? Is that what you said?” All the world seem to go so still he could hear his heart pound.
She nodded. “I hate that it happened, hate it so much I can’t breathe—but however furious I am, I could never hate you, James. If I’d paid more attention, if I hadn’t been so absorbed in my own misery—”
He crushed her against him. Could not speak for the staggering relief rushing through him so fast his head was light.
Then he held her at arm’s length. “I’m changing things. I’ve begun the process to step down. I’ll have to work with Cele until she’s ready, but I’ve already told everyone that she’ll be assuming a greater share of responsibility. She’s excited about it. And the second that it’s possible, we’re going on a long trip to visit all the places you’ve wished to see. Do any crazy thing you’ve ever dreamed of.”
Her eyes were wide and stunned. “What—I don’t—” she blinked. “What are you saying?”
“That I love you, Bella. More than my life. More than anything or anyone in the world, and we’re not putting off dreams one day longer than absolutely necessary. I hadn’t realized what I’d done to you, not until you were gone. I trapped a butterfly and caged her. You were meant to fly, my love, not plod along with the ants.”
“But—”
He herded her toward the glider that she’d wished for so often. “And neither am I, only I never realized it. You freed me once, Bella, and I walked right back into the cell, dragging you with me. This is what I’m good at, not running the company.”
“But the business. You love it.”
“It’s my heritage, yes, but I was only a caretaker. It’s time for the next generation to step up. I was little older than Cele when I was put at the helm, and she’s far better suited than me. I won’t leave her until she’s comfortable, but it won’t be long, I promise you.”
He swiveled her back to face him. “Will you wait for me? I swear I’ll be home early every night, and we’ll spend this time planning our travels. Then, when we’ve seen all you want, maybe we can return home and laze beneath the trees in this glider you’ve been wishing I’d build for years.”
“Maybe I don’t care about traveling anymore,” she said.
“That’s your decision. I’ve made mine, which is that I’m getting back to what’s important—you and me.”
She was silent for a long time. He had to force himself to remain still, but he gained heart from watching her fingers rhythmically stroking the wood of the glider as she studied him.
Then she smiled, and it was the glow of the sun that had warmed and brightened his life. “I need to walk in my garden,” she said. “And see our house again, to be certain it’s real.”
Her eyes were warm with promise. “But I’d like to do it all with you, James.” She extended a hand. “Come with me?”
He clasped her fingers in his and squeezed as he felt his world brighten. “Anywhere.”
Then he slid his arms around her because he yearned to have her close. Needed her the way her flowers required sunshine and rain. “Welcome home, my love.”
Side by side, they strolled back into the life they’d so nearly lost.
~THE END~
Thank you for letting me share my stories with you! Next up in the Second Chances series is THE PRICE HE PAID:
The golden boy and the rebel girl who cost him everything.
Tough prosecutor Callie Hunter left the small town and never planned to return, but an unexpected inheritance requires her to return to the scene of her life’s greatest heartache.
When she encounters the town’s golden boy who once owned her young heart—only to learn he’s fresh out of prison. All David Langley wants is to be left alone to scrape together a life unrecognizable to the boy who once carried the town’s dreams on his shoulders.
Until he let Callie Hunter derail him.
The draw between them is still there, but having her see how far he’s fallen is unbearable. The more she’s with him, however, the more she knows that who he was didn’t change. There has to be more to the story.
But second chances don’t happen for convicted murderers, and when old enemies conspire to send him back into the hell he barely survived, the only one who can help him is Callie.
The last person on earth he’s willing to ask for anything.
Get your co
py of THE PRICE HE PAID today!
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Jean
Excerpt from THE PRICE HE PAID:
The chapel was wall-to-wall strangers. All the better.
Callie Hunter had no desire to be connected to the hell-raising fourteen-year-old she’d been, bottle black, scarlet-tipped hair, piercings and all. The summer she’d been banished to Oak Hollow by her mother was one she’d shoved to the back of the closet.
One stiletto-clad foot swung impatiently from her crossed knees. As soon as the service was over, she was out of here. Only her feelings for Miss Margaret, as her great-aunt, Margaret Jennings, was known, could have dragged Callie back to the mountains of Georgia. She’d never come back one time in the sixteen years since she’d left. Memories of shame and sorrow clogged the valleys and hollows of this Smoky Mountain landscape. Agonizing reminders lurked on each rounded peak, waiting to pounce on her with the stealth of a wildcat.
Faint murmuring began to creep through the congregation like fog stealing over a riverbank, spilling up the nearest rise of land, and Callie could only assume someone had, after all, recognized her. She steeled herself. The funeral would be over soon. She’d deposit a generous donation with the minister and jump into her car. Be back in Philadelphia before morning, burrowed safely in her real life where she balanced the scales of justice, put the bad guys away. Where Callie Hunter was a rising star in the District Attorney’s office, with plans to one day run for election and replace her boss.
Assuming, that is, that she could reverse the damage she’d done to herself in the high-profile case she’d recently lost, a severe blow to the reputation of the wunderkind known in the tough Philly press as Lady Justice for her ardent prosecution of crime and her record conviction rate. She itched to get home and prove herself. Her job was her life; every second she had to be away at this critical period was torture.
Bringing Bella Back Page 17
